


Kalon (Part 1)

by pressedinthepages



Series: Kalon [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Codpieces, Draw Me Like One of Your French Girls, Drawing, Eskel doesnt think he's pretty, F/M, Fluff, Love Confessions, Oral Sex, Smut, Soft Eskel (The Witcher), Sort Of, Vaginal Sex, bless his heart, hell yeah, smut in chapter 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:46:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25212634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pressedinthepages/pseuds/pressedinthepages
Summary: You can’t help but draw beautiful things, but what happens when they catch you in the act?
Relationships: Eskel (The Witcher)/Reader
Series: Kalon [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1830748
Comments: 5
Kudos: 57





	Kalon (Part 1)

**Author's Note:**

> No request this time, just wanted to write something like this that was all mushy and a prelude to something more...spicy

The moonlight shines into the room, bathing the library in an ethereal mist. Your pencil scratches along the parchment, finishing a project that you had started when you had first arrived at Kaer Morhen for the winter. You glance up at your subject, admiring him for a moment before lowering your head back down. You’re so close to being finished, and then you can start a new project, maybe one while everyone is out in the training yard. 

You are so immersed in your drawing that you don’t notice your subject peer over at you, rise, and silently cross the room to stand just in front of you. You do, however, notice when you look up again to reference how the light from the moon falls over the line of his nose and Eskel is looming over you, hands on his hips. 

You yelp and almost jump out of your skin. “Damn it, Eskel! I thought we agreed that you’d walk louder!”

You slam your journal shut as he chuckles, and when he holds out a hand you huff, shaking your head as you take it and rise from the chair that you’ve been perched in all evening. His hand is rough in yours, decades of work and violence leaving their marks on any bit of skin available. 

“It’s getting late, may I walk you to your room?” Eskel rumbles, holding his arm out to you. 

“But of course, my good sir,” you tease, curtsying low before resting your hand in the crook of his elbow. You move throughout the castle leisurely, humming lightly as you start to climb the spiral staircase. The cacophony of Lambert’s and Vesemir’s snoring echoes throughout the castle, and you can’t help the little snicker that slips from your lips.

“Gods, they’re ridiculous…” you whisper, squeezing Eskel’s arm lightly as you approach the door leading to your room in the tower.

“Hmm, imagine living with it for as long as I’ve lived, and having Lambert deny that he snores any time you bring it up.” Eskel’s voice is low, soothing in the dim light of the stairway, “He sounds like a bunch of rock trolls getting their rocks off, literally.”

You snort far louder than you intended, covering your mouth as you try to hold in your laughter. As you catch your breath, you look over at Eskel, who is looking at you as if you hung the moon. Your laughter stops suddenly, a gentle smile taking its place as a blush blooms up your cheeks. 

“Come in for a moment, would you? I found something in one of the crates earlier that I thought you might like.” You push open the door, letting go of Eskel’s arm as you stride into the room. It’s small, like every room except for the giant suite at the top of the tower. You’d been offered that one when you first arrived, but you declined, telling the others that you would be perfectly happy in a little room with a bed and a fireplace.  _ Besides _ , you had thought to yourself,  _ a room that big would be far too lonely for only one person. _

You set your journal on the table by the door, sliding to the trunk in the corner of the room as Eskel shuts the door behind him and steps inside. You trip over a wayward pair of boots, smiling sheepishly back to him in the dark room. You can hear the smile on his face as he sighs, making a quick movement with his hand that lights the candles around the room, and then once more in the fireplace. 

Immediately feeling warmer and able to see properly, you crouch at the foot of the trunk and open the clasps along the side. The lid tips open with a creak and you rustle around for a moment before finally grasping the small treasure that you had stumbled upon earlier in the day. 

“Look Eskel, it’s some of that orange soap you had said that you liked-wait, what the fuck are you doing?” you say as you turn, finding him holding your journal and staring at one of the pages. 

Your eyes widen, icy terror flushing through your veins. You both stand completely still, your gazes locked on one another in a stalemate. Eskel at least has the decency to flush, caught like a five-year-old with his hand in the cookie jar. 

“I-” he clears his throat, glancing down at the page before looking back at you, “I’ve seen you working in this, and I just-my curiosity got the better of me... _ is this what you really think I look like?” _ His voice is barely more than a whisper, confusion and admiration crinkling his eyes as the gold burns through your skin. 

You slowly move closer, still holding the bar of soap in your hand as you peer at the picture that he is looking at. There are only two in the journal so far, and he has it open to the first one. 

You had been in the common area of the keep during one of the first days of arriving when the doors slammed open, a large man clad in all black with long silver hair striding into the castle. Eskel had been sitting across from you, but when he looked at the new arrival, you saw his face light up as though the sun had taken residence in his smile, and he lept up and crossed the room, jumping onto the man you soon were introduced to as Geralt and capturing him in a crushing hug. 

That was the moment that you had reproduced, Eskel’s joy at seeing his best friend, his  _ brother,  _ for the first time in almost a year. It had taken almost a week and a half of work, you always had such a hard time with drawing hair. But you were happy with it, the shine in his eyes and the broad grin that turned up at the edge from the scar that raked down his cheek. 

You hum, reaching over and turning to the next page, the one that you had been working on earlier in the evening. This time, Eskel was kneeling, meditating in front of a fire. His face was the definition of relaxation, something comforting in the way the light danced across his features as his chest rose and fell with even breaths. 

Now, though, Eskel looks...well, he looks close to tears. His mouth is slightly agape as his eyes rove over the page, swallowing thickly before whispering your name. You close your eyes, bracing yourself for the inevitable rejection and aversion to your attentions. 

However, what you aren’t ready for is the sound of your journal hitting the floor as a pair of strong arms wraps you into their embrace. Eskel buries his face into your neck, his breathing uneven huffs of air on your skin. You feel a slight dampness on your shoulder as you wind your own arms around his waist, holding him close as you rest your head on his shoulder. You stay like that for a while, just listening to his heart beat against his chest, far too slow for what you were used to. 

When you finally find your voice, it is small, meek as you murmur, “Of course that’s how I see you, you’re the most inspiring person I’ve ever found to make art out of.”

Eskel pulls back, amber eyes glistening as you reach up and cup the scarred side of his face with your hand. He leans into the touch, letting his eyes fall closed as he rests his forehead against yours. 

“Eskel,” you murmur, his eyes blinking open and staring down into your own. You let your gaze fall to his lips, soft and pillowy as you brush your thumb lightly over his cheek. 

Leaning up, you let your mouth meet his in a sweet kiss, as light as the moon holding up the stars. You feel him sink into you, his hands settling at your hips as he pulls you closer. You moan into his mouth, a dark promise lining the silk of your voice.

“Gods, I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” Eskel whispers as he moves back, still holding you close as you blush under his watchful gaze. 

“So have I,” you reply, “and I would very much like to do it again.”

Eskel smiles, even brighter than the moment you had recreated in your journal as he leans back down to you, thanking his lucky stars that he found his way into your life.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading :) you can find me on tumblr @pressedinthepages


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